


devour

by amidnightlove



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Bottom Obi-Wan Kenobi, Lactation Kink, M/M, Male Lactation, Smut, Suitless Darth Vader, Top Anakin Skywalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:14:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26233279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amidnightlove/pseuds/amidnightlove
Summary: Everyone knows that Darth Vader is nothing but the emperor’s weapon, a cruel and deadly murderer.That former Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi is nothing more than a prisoner, his precious trophy.Everyone is wrong.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 31
Kudos: 439





	devour

**Author's Note:**

> the synopsis implies there's plot, but mostly this is just about milk.
> 
> enjoy it!

Obi-Wan walked barefooted across the cool tiles, hearing the rustle of the hem of his long transparent silk robe against the floor.

It was a sunny day on Coruscant. Warm. Not that he could go out to confirm it.

Tiny, cold and dark eyes followed his every move.

He ignored them, the same way he ignored the way his lower side still ached from that morning activities. The same way he ignored the heaviness in his chest area.

It was near lunchtime, so he calmly walked to the kitchen and set down two plates with cutlery over a durasteel table.

He had learned long ago not to have breakable furniture.

Not that he was hungry per se, but he knew he couldn’t skip many meals without gaining attention.

A droid walked next to him and began to cook.

Obi-Wan observed it and then noticed that another two had approached.

Sighing, he followed them to the refresher.

It was his everyday routine. At random points of the day, droids would come to him and rub him clean.

He would be perfumed, brushed and pampered. Always ready and prepared for whenever Darth Vader decided to appear.

Obi-Wan still couldn’t figure out why the droids were programmed like that. Obi-Wan was no one after all, simply Vader’s pet. No longer a Jedi, no longer a threat.

Perhaps it was a way of further reminding him he had no control over his life anymore. That not only his actions were being monitored but his body was not his as well.

Obi-Wan was pushed to the round tub with warm water and he entered it, throwing away his robe.

He was forbidden to use underwear and in seconds, a robotic hand began to scrub his body.

He knew what the droids would report back to the emperor. He counted on it.

_Hand shaped bruises on his body, bite marks. The collar still on. Screams coming from the main bedroom._

_Obi-Wan Kenobi does nothing, simply waits to be used by Darth Vader all day._

Trying not to smile, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and ignored the brushes rubbing against his bruises.

They never quite faded, always more being added.

The urge to smile faded when a sponge moved near his chest.

“No,” he said out loud, the small word echoing in the chamber.

He was sore and heavy and there was only one person allowed to touch him apart from himself.

He swam away from the droids, glaring at them.

“You will comply,” one beeped.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath.

“No, I can do it myself,” he said and grabbed the sponge, carefully washing his chest and avoiding his nipples.

He was sure that if the droids had facial features they would’ve been glaring in return.

Before they could add something else, he snatched a clear bottle from a nearby tray.

“I can prepare myself,” he said in a flat tone, feeling the water against his tense body.

The two droids remained staring at him and then beeped something at each other. But they backed away until they were standing side by side on the wall.

Obi-Wan pursed his lips and exited the tub, water dripping on the floor.

He walked naked to the where the toilet was situated and watched in satisfaction how the door closed behind him, leaving him alone.

Sighing, he took in his body in the small mirror. He knew the material was not made to be broken, he had tried.

He looked…fine. Beyond fine. His auburn shone, his beard carefully trimmed, he was well-fed. No bones visible, his face full and healthy-looking. 

He didn’t look like a prisoner.

He pressed onto a bite near a round shoulder, over faint handprints left over his pale skin.

He put a finger under the tight silver collar that repressed his connection to the Force and pulled slightly. It didn’t bulge; it never did.

Obi-Wan unscrewed the bottle he held and poured the oil in his fingers, reaching behind him to prepare himself.

He still felt open, loose. But he knew it was better to be prepared.

Sometimes Vader didn’t have the time to open him or wanted to do it.

It was easy and familiar to slide his fingers in and spread the oil. He was no longer ashamed of it, of what his life had become.

When he exited the room, he threw the empty bottle at one of the droids. It had slow reflexes, and the bottle shattered on the floor.

“Oh, dear,” said Obi-Wan and grabbed a towel to dry himself. “I could cut myself with that.”

The two droids sprang into action, one even opened a small panel to reveal a tiny brush. They could not allow the prisoner to be harmed.

Vader would not be pleased.

Grabbing his robe again, Obi-Wan ignored them and walked back to the kitchen, knowing the tiny shards of transparisteel would keep them busy for a while.

The cooking droid had finished with the food and had backed away to a corner.

Obi-Wan looked around, but as always, it was just him and his droid guards.

He walked to the only window which had views to the outside and stood in front of it.

Coruscant looked the same, as if transitioning from Republic to Empire had not changed it.

Obi-Wan put a hand on the transparisteel and thought he could almost sense the warmth of the sun on his hand.

There was a commotion of beeps and wheeling behind him but he didn’t turn, knowing what was coming.

Distantly, a door slid open. There was a metallic clank, a droid complaining loudly about something and the sounds of heavy footsteps coming his way.

“Lord Vader,” said one droid. “This morning, your pet has…”

“Out,” came the low reply.

“I must report…”

“ _Out!_ ”

Obi-Wan remained staring through the window. It was one of those days, then.

Even if he didn’t have the Force anymore, he was still capable of noticing that Darth Vader was in one of his foul moods.

The footsteps came closer, but the droids still complained.

He was turned and shoved against the window, a hand holding him by the collar and the other bunching up the robe the wore over his hips.

The pull on his neck made Obi-Wan swallow, the material digging into his throat almost painfully. His shoulder blades pressing onto the window.

“Kenobi, my pet,” Vader whispered. The contempt and seriousness of that tone made him swallow again. There was nothing but hate in his golden eyes.

“Vader,” spat Obi-Wan.

Darth Vader leaned to breathe loudly on his ear, pressing his rough suit against the thin material of the robe.

Behind them, the commotion of droids continued. Their beeps and complaints getting louder.

Vader sneered and let go of the collar just to use one gloved finger to prod his entrance, the leather crinkling and touching his lubricated hole.

Breathing more easily, Obi-Wan closed his eyes. He would never admit how much he liked having the glove in him.

He bit his lip, arching his back and putting a leg around Vader’s waist, changing the angle to allow more access. Vader smirked at him, quickly opening the front of his suit and releasing his erection.

“Lord Vader,” insisted a droid. “It is my mission to…”

Vader frowned so deeply it almost became a permanent thing. The hand touching him was gone for a moment, and a loud crash sounded in the room.

The two droids that had bathed him earlier flew across until they crashed into each other, beeping angrily.

Obi-Wan trembled, aware that he was naked and exposed. And that Vader was quite angry.

Neither of those situations was uncommon, but he preferred when the droids weren’t looking at him.

The panting on his neck made goosebumps break over his skin, and an erection begin to appear.

“My pretty prisoner,” murmured Vader and the finger was in him again, this time accompanied by another one, “I’m going to fuck you.”

Whimpering, Obi-Wan heard the door open and close. The droids that had been with him all morning finally leaving.

They never took orders from him, only from Vader or the emperor.

Vader removed his fingers and before Obi-Wan could wonder if there was going to be any foreplay, a hard and insistent cock entered him in one slow motion.

Obi-Wan gasped and a hand rubbed him on the back, pressing into the bruises. No matter how much he prepared, it was always startling those first moments when he felt he was being split open into two.

Vader closed his eyes and when he opened them again, the tension he carried receded. A small smile appeared on his face.

“They’re gone,” murmured Anakin in his ear and kissed him there, “they’re gone, it’s just us.”

Obi-Wan nodded, relaxing. “Move, then.”

Anakin laughed and began to thrust, pushing him against the window.

Obi-Wan was glad that no one could see him from the outside.

“Anakin,” he whispered, resting the back of his head on the window. His chest hurt, heavy. He moaned, feeling the cock inside of him move faster. “Kiss me.”

Anakin moved a bit closer, sliding even deeper. Their lips met in a tender touch that vanished any trace of Vader.

After that, there was nothing but the endless pleasure of Anakin pounding into him and the relief of knowing they were alone at last.

They didn’t have to pretend anymore when it was just the two of them.

Obi-Wan savoured the rough fabric of Anakin’s suit against his sensitive skin.

“How was your morning?” asked Anakin between thrusts.

As if he didn’t do the same thing every day. Obi-Wan snorted but then the cock inside him hit his prostrate and he ended up moaning.

“Same as usual,” he said out of breath, moving one hand to touch his pert nipples over the white robe. “How was yours?”

Anakin’s shoulder still remained tense, coiled as if to attack. He had not left that morning their rooms like that, but most of the time he did return brooding. Whatever he had done with the emperor affecting him.

Anakin immediately followed the movement, staring at the inflated nipples, hunger in his eyes. He had chosen the robe specifically so he could ogle at Obi-Wan all the times.

“Same as usual,” Anakin echoed, frowning. He stopped moving and simply looked at Obi-Wan’s chest, where two small wet circles had appeared on the robe. “Came for my lunch break.”

Obi-Wan snorted again.

“How straightforward,” he lifted his chin and moved one to his own stiff cock, “finish first.”

Anakin grinned, one hand sneaking to Obi-Wan’s soft stomach and rubbing it softly.

“Missed me?” he asked as he began to move, trying to hit Obi-Wan’s spot again.

His hips pressed tightly into him, as if trying to glue Obi-Wan to the window. Obi-Wan arched his back and came with a loud moan.

“You know that I have,” he said breathlessly, feeling the robe being stuck to his sweaty back and on his front as well. His knees went weak and he clung to Anakin for support.

“Yeah, I know,” replied Anakin and he went somber again, yet at the same time his hand slid lower to squeeze Obi-Wan’s backside.

He fucked into him with deep powerful thrusts and not before long he was filling him with his hot seed, head resting over Obi-Wan’s shoulder and sighing.

Obi-Wan surrounded him with his arms, kissing him on the forehead, his hole and legs throbbing.

He wondered how Anakin’s emotions would feel if he had the Force. The pretending and waiting were taking a toll on them.

“I know what you need,” he whispered and thought he could almost feel the milk running down his chest at the mere idea of what was coming next.

Anakin kissed him on the neck, smiling. He pulled out and before Obi-Wan could react, he was hoisted over Anakin’s shoulder.

“Anakin!”

Anakin patted him on the backside, quickly walking to their bedroom. He dumped Obi-Wan unceremoniously on the bed and stared.

Obi-Wan wiggled, tugging down at the back of his robe and ignoring the sticky feeling between his legs.

He looked at Anakin and lifted an eyebrow.

“Suit?” he asked and slowly tugged at the end of the knot keeping his robe together.

“Can’t,” Anakin knelt on the mattress, “I have a meeting later, I can’t stay long.”

“We’ll see about that,” replied Obi-Wan and tugged at the knot until his robe untied. He took a deep breath and holding the lapels with both hands, he opened it.

His round and heavy breasts exposed. Pale mounds full of milk. The tips were puffy and red, a steady stream of milk coming out of them.

He had refused to call them breasts at the beginning, but after weeks of Anakin sucking at them, they had engorged to the point it was impossible to call them anything else.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan looked up at him and felt heat rise to his cheeks, “come.”

Anakin crawled on his hands and knees until he was on top of him, licking his lips.

“You’re full,” he said quietly, lifting one gloved finger, “do they hurt?”

As he said the words, a small trickle of milk appeared from the right nipple and fell over the glove. Anakin’s finger approached it, carefully collecting it.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan nearly whimpered, “yes, it hurts.”

“And did they touch you?” Anakin’s golden eyes flashed, licking clean his glove, “did they touch your breasts?”

“Who?” asked Obi-Wan. Nobody visited him. Nobody touched him apart from Anakin, he didn’t allow it. He moved a hand to try and relieve the pressure on his chest, but Anakin stopped him with his mechanical one.

“The droids,” Anakin nearly growled, staring at him and settling himself between Obi-Wan opened legs, “they can’t touch you. You’re mine, that milk is only for me.”

Obi-Wan swallowed, fully aware that this was Anakin but that also this was Vader.

“No,” he said softly and grabbed Anakin’s hand until it covered his right breast, the rough texture of the glove on his sensitive skin, “only you touch me. Only you have me.”

“Yes,” said Anakin and carefully grabbed the breast by the underside, pressing and making a spray of milk come out.

The pressure lessened the more Anakin squeezed, the milk nearly coming out in rivers down Obi-Wan’s chest.

Obi-Wan whimpered and before he could react, Anakin dropped to his stomach and covered the breast with his mouth.

“Yes,” whispered Obi-Wan, feeling the wet and warm mouth enveloped him. He had waited all morning for this, “yes.”

The relief and the sensation of each pulling and suckling of Anakin made him nearly cry. His entire body became alive, electrified.

Only Anakin could make him feel like this.

Anakin settled his head between Obi-Wan’s breasts, still suckling gently. He looked up at him, his mouth full of the breast and milk.

Obi-Wan relaxed the more Anakin sucked, enjoying the weight on top of him, the satisfaction of having him milking him.

Anakin relaxed too, melting above him with each pull to the breast. The tension he had entered their room with vanishing the more he sucked, the more the warm milk travelled to his stomach.

His teeth grazed the hard nipple in his mouth and Obi-Wan trembled, tangling their legs.

He tried to touch his neglected left breast, but Anakin stopped him again.

“Please,” Obi-Wan breathed, sheer bliss running down his body, “please touch me.”

“Yes,” whispered Anakin, letting go of the breast just to give it a broad swipe with his tongue, “I’ll take care of you.”

He moved to the left breast, nuzzling against the soft skin. The nipple was already covered in a thin layer of milk, a white bead on the swollen tip waiting to be nursed.

Anakin carefully kneaded it with his hand, staring at it with almost desperation. He licked his lips, tasting the vestiges of the milk from the other breast.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan shifted on the bed, grabbing him by the hair and tugging him close, “please.”

Milk began to appear and wet Anakin’s glove, while he kept carefully pressing and relieving him.

He was always gentle with his touch. Obi-Wan’s body produced milk for him, and just for him, and he treasured it. Treasured every drop.

His mouth covered the nipple, giving a hard suck. Obi-Wan let out a low moan, the sensation travelling across his spine and into his cock.

Anakin opened his mouth a little wider, taking more of the breast in the slick warmth that was his mouth.

Obi-Wan grabbed onto him, a handful of black cape. It was the most pleasant feeling in the galaxy to be like this, being in a soft bed and having Anakin’s warm mouth covering his chest.

He began to breathe more evenly, all his worries and thoughts vanishing the more Anakin drank. Obi-Wan let out a sigh, peace and contentedness spreading all over his body.

Anakin moved a hand to caress him softly on his stomach, suckling on the still full breast, the tissue tender and sensitive to his touch.

He kissed the glistening tip and smiled at him.

“Do you like it?” Anakin asked, pressing into a mark on Obi-Wan’s soft stomach that had the shape of his thumb, “when I drink your milk?”

Nearly whimpering, Obi-Wan nodded. The bed was soft and Anakin was here, he had no energy to be flustered by the comment.

He was probably never going to find out why Anakin enjoyed drinking from him so much, but he didn’t mind it.

“You produce so much milk,” continued Anakin, returning to the right breast and squeezing it at the base, a squirt of milk coming out, “that we could run away right now and never worry about what we would eat ever again.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan huffed, “really?”

“Really,” said Anakin in a serious tone. He opened his mouth to catch the spray of milk, giving a deep moan when it hit the back of his throat.

He straddled Obi-Wan, using both hands to squeeze both breasts at the same time and lick the milk that fell down Obi-Wan’s torso.

Obi-Wan shivered, feeling the milk move over his body and Anakin chase it with his wet tongue.

“We’ll leave soon,” said Anakin casually, licking his lips, “very soon, be ready.”

Obi-Wan swallowed. Leaving, leaving his prison. That would mean the emperor would be gone. No more collar, no more Vader, no more him being caged.

Good. He had waited for long now.

He smiled lightly and arched his back, offering his body.

“I am ready,” he replied and Anakin smirked at him, latching onto one breast again.

The room filled with the sound of his suckling, of the tender sucks he made trying to drink all the milk Obi-Wan had in him.

“Anakin,” whispered Obi-Wan, the fullness he had felt on his chest all morning vanishing the more he nursed him, “kiss me.”

Anakin made a noise that could’ve been interpreted as affirmative and gave a loud slurp, pressing his lips together.

He moved until he was covering Obi-Wan’s body again, and sneaked one hand to hold the back of Obi-Wan’s head in his broad palm.

Obi-Wan moved closer and their lips touched, and as soon as he opened his mouth, Anakin opened his, sending him the milk he had collected into his mouth.

Obi-Wan nearly startled and began to drink as well, the sweet and warm liquid going down his throat.

Anakin grinned at him, a drop of milk in the corner of his mouth.

“That wasn’t a kiss,” Obi-Wan swallowed, tasting his own milk in his mouth. It was odd, but not entirely distasteful.

He thought that perhaps he vaguely understood why Anakin liked it, that perhaps it wasn’t about the milk itself but the closeness that created between them.

Obi-Wan produced milk only for Anakin, and Anakin was the only one who milked him.

“Come here,” he said softly, opening his arms. Anakin threw himself on top of him, covering with his body and cape.

He took a deep breath, nuzzling him on the neck. He placed a kiss there, inhaling.

“Love you,” mumbled Anakin, drawing him close. “I drank a lot, maybe I’ll take a nap.”

Obi-Wan laughed quietly and kissed him, Anakin returning the kiss almost lazily.

“I did say you wouldn’t go to that meeting,” said Obi-Wan, settling closer to him and sensing a strong arm holding him by his middle.

He was sleepy too; he would always end up completely relaxed after Anakin drank the milk. A sort of fuzzy haze overcoming him that made him want nothing but cuddles and gentle touches.

Anakin hummed, golden eyes shining. “Yeah, you were right.”

“I always am,” replied Obi-Wan in a low tone and closed his eyes.

The nursing would happen again that night, already his body getting ready to produce more milk.

Obi-Wan shuffled closer to him, his soft breasts against Anakin’s hard suit.

He fell asleep and dreamt of freedom and the warm sensation of Anakin around him.


End file.
